


Devotion

by killerleeray



Category: Child's Play/Chucky (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Go easy on me this is my first AO3 post, Not A Happy Ending, Possible multi-chapter series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24885001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerleeray/pseuds/killerleeray
Summary: After saving Chucky from almost being killed by detective Norris, you find that he’s extremely ungrateful which sparks yet another fight between the two of you that doesn’t end well.
Relationships: Chucky | Charles Lee Ray/You
Kudos: 20





	Devotion

"I don't have a good feeling about this," You exhausted, watching as your wickedly ill-famed boyfriend fastened a scarf around his neck to avoid the bitter Chicago air.

"Relax," Charles' eyes set upon you. "There's nothin' to worry about."

"There's everything to worry about, Chuck," You argued, passing over his coat to him. "Eddie Caputo isn't exactly the Einstein of getting away with murder."

"No, of course, he isn't," A faint, disturbed chortle came from between Charles' lips. "In fact, he's a goddamn moron, but..."

He paused in cutting suspension, taking in the moment for himself. Almost like engulfing in a breath of fresh air after being stuck inside somewhere for hours on end.

"He's the perfect fall guy."

"Yeah sure, that's all fine and well until you get caught and Eddie panics and leaves you stranded somewhere," You were stood parallel to him. Your eyes were fixed on the narrow point of his straight nose before they made their way to his shrill blue eyes. Your thoughts on a perpetual rip your pons out loop. "And you know he will."

"Yeah, well," He took two steps forward to give you a tender kiss on your temple. The warmth of him radiated onto you as he spoke, his voice so dense, so coarse, and so obscure as it slithered around your head and penetrated its way right into your ears. "If that mother fucker knows what's good for him, he wouldn't dare."

You tried to stay as self-assured as one could be when they were caught up in what you were. Charles Lee Ray was a sinister man. Truly one wicked, sick in the head son of a bitch. He was so atrocious that he was even awarded a name for his transgressions. The Lakeshore Strangler. In a series of ritual voodoo killings, it's difficult to say how many people Charles has slain in his time, but one thing was for sure: he enjoyed it. Savored it, even. It would take some revelation by the graces of God himself to convince Charles to suspend his less than human inclinations. Even Hell would have to freeze over first, but seeing as Satan was still more than flourishing in his little hot box, that concept wasn't foreseeable.

It's just a part of who Charles was. He got off on it. Literally. His bloodlust was so insatiable, you figured it was best to just leave him to his vices. You still, regrettably, adored him just the same. Even with blood on his hands and the literal skeletons he was hiding in his closet. He was your Chucky. That would never change.

"Besides," His one arm coasted around your waist, pulling you close to him. The other freehand being brought to sweep aside the hair that had fallen into your eyes. "If anything does happen, you'll come back for me right, doll?"

"Of course I would," You beckoned up at him with affectionate, sultry eyes. "Even if I have to kill the fucker myself, there's no way in hell I'd leave you."

"That's my girl..." After sweeping you off your feet and into the midst of a tender, electrifying kiss, Charles was fixed on his nocturnal ritual. He knew precisely where he wanted to operate tonight and he made Eddie drive you guys there.

For quite some time, Charles had this never-ending animosity for detective Mike Norris. To be frank, Norris was the one trying to get Charles slammed for his crimes, so it was warranted. Apparently.

Tonight would be the night Charles took care of that, or so he supposed. On his routine stop, he had a run-in with Norris and another detective who had been camping out around downtown in hopes of catching him. Unfortunately for Charles, his notoriety led to people keeping close eyes on him which then turned into phone lines to the police station being tipped off almost twenty-four-seven. There was no feasible way that he could get out of this one.

In the van, you sat anxiously for what was to never become of Charles' arrival. Eddie was in the front seat, listening to what you considered to be the trash of late eighties music. Your ears felt like they were being scraped with glass the longer you were forced to sit there and listen, but when good old Chucky gave you an order, you followed suit or bad things happened to you as a result. The sound of your heart racing in your ears had somewhat dulled the sound of the atrocious music. As the minutes went by you could discern the unsettling in your stomach increasing. The ache was so grave that you felt like sobbing, vomiting, or a macabre hybrid of both.

"Where is he, Eddie?" Your voice was submerged in dread. "He was supposed to have been back here over a half-hour ago."

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" He retorted. "I'm not his goddamn babysitter."

"If I remember correctly, you were supposed to go with him."

"Yeah, and?" His head was perched back just enough for you to see the smug 'I-couldn't-really-give-a-shit-less' look plastered to his revolting face.

"Bitch..." You mumbled under your breath.

"The fuck did you just say?" Eddie's head turned toward you in a fit of anger.

Before you were even awarded the chance to answer to his rage, you heard a recognizable pop! come from just beyond the back of the van. The shot startled you out of the mini-feud you were having with Eddie, the anxiety descending into your ribs once more. Another shot pops off in your ears and you fear the worst. Without a shadow of a doubt, you threw open the back doors of the van and your eyes diverted right to your boyfriend who was fixed on the ground, gun barrel facing detective Norris. He had been shot in the back of the leg and fought to get to his feet. 

Your surroundings unfolded before you same as the speed of lightning striking the ground and before you knew it the sound of sirens was growing nearer.

"Oh, shit..." Eddie murmured under his breath.

"Get the van!" Detective Norris screamed out towards his partner.

That's when your prophecies proved fatal because Eddie stepped on the gas and hauled ass, leaving Charles to fend for himself against Norris.

"Eddie, help me!" Charles was limping to catch up with the van, his screams of both anguish and outrage followed suit. "Eddie, Eddie! Don't leave me, God no!"

"You asshole!" You were shoved back by the g-force and fell on your ass, screaming after your travail to shut the van doors. "Turn around, now!"

"Fuck you, I'm not going back there!"

"Turn it around or it's your fucking life."

"You're crazy, bitch," He spat. "You and your psycho boyfriend."

You were trembling with rage the same way a kettle on the stove rattled when it screeched to let you know the water was ready. You were almost vibrating with wrath towards him.

"Oh, but he's not really a boyfriend, is he, (Y/N)?" He taunted. "You're nothing more than a brainless fuck toy."

"Eat shit and die mother-fucker!" You screamed in your depletion and violence. His words irrefutably struck a nerve in you, kenning the way Charles' treats you on occasion.

With movements fluid like that of water, you were on your feet with a knife pressed into the skin of Eddie's neck. No sign of hesitation was present in your efforts to slice open the delicate flesh. In fact, you were so pent up with fury that had you gone a smidge deeper, you could've cut his head clean off. The coherence of his blood oozed down your fingers and you'd ordinarily marvel it, but the van was steering itself after Eddie's expiration and if you didn't wanna join him, you'd have to act twice as fast. You managed to throw his lifeless body into the passenger seat and regain control as you drove back to Wabash and Van Buren to rescue Charles.

Upon arrival, you noticed that both Charles and Norris disappeared. So, you put the van in park, yanked the keys out of the ignition, and made your way to search for the two. When you stepped outside, you discovered the sound of a store alarm sounding in your ears. It was the Playland Toys toy store that occupied on Van Buren street, so that's where your suspicions guided your feet... for obvious reasons. As you stepped closer, the bitter Chicago air not bothering you in the slightest, you saw your darling boyfriend cowering behind a stack of Good Guy dolls from beyond the glass window. As your eyes carried, you saw Norris close, gun in hand, ready to shoot at any sign of the serial killer, but that's the last thing you were gonna let happen.

Charles couldn't help but notice your presence in the window and kindled with gratefulness seeing that you had come back for him just like you promised. The gesture was meager, but expressing gratitude was rare for the narcissistic man, even if he did belong to you, so you savored the joyous moment. You signaled for him to stay put and he just kept himself still behind the stack of ginger-haired dolls.

You were forced to kick off your black heels to alleviate the sound of your whereabouts to the detective. Your movements were so deliberate, you could have sworn that centuries past before you were even remotely close to Norris, but Charles' life depended on your abundance of caution. Once behind the man, you took the point of your knife, still covered in the leftovers of Eddie's death, and stuck it clean through his back. The sound of his flesh being torn through was music to your ears, especially knowing he wouldn't have the strength or life left in him to go after Charles. You were sure to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet and hold him still while you executed this though.

Charles' eyes peaked from beyond the children's toy, glittering with adoration. He had never had a woman so devoted to him in his entire life, let alone one that would, without hesitation, commit homicide to protect him. It was both a sentimental and arousing moment for him.

After you drew the blade from within Norris, which came after about a minute or so of indulging in your actions, you let him drop to the floor. You touched his side with your foot like a hesitant little kid poking dead bugs to make sure he was truly expired. When you were positive, you stood up and looked for Charles.

"You can come out now, darling!" You beckoned. "He's not goin' anywhere."

"You sure he's dead, sweetheart?" You could see him peeling his feet from behind the yellow boxes to reveal himself.

"Positive, sweet face." You snickered to yourself, almost too prideful of your actions. You motioned a hand for him to come out. When he did, he ran up to you and pulled you into his arms. You were so overwhelmed with delight that you hadn't even noticed that he picked your feet off the ground amid the whirlwind hug.

"That was amazing what you did for me out here, doll," Charles chuckled, glimmering eyes on you. He set you down but still held you close to him.

"It was nothing at all, baby," You tried to suppress a child-like giggle, but his affections towards you, though minimal, made you flustered. "I promised you I'd come back."

"What did you do with the body?"

"Come on, I'll show you," You grasped his hand, eager to show off your handy work as you pulled him out of the abandoned wreck of a toy store. "We gotta get the hell out of dodge before we get caught again, anyway!"

"God damn," He exhaled as his eyes followed up and down Eddie's lackluster body while you drove the fan out of the city and down to the south side. "You're tellin' me you did this?"

"With my own two hands!" You said pridefully.

You saw his eyes pander around the mess that was made in the passenger seat of the van. His nose was upturned with objection.

"Couldn't have cleaned up the mess?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" You turned your head to eye him for a single moment before being forced to return to the road. "I came back to save your sorry ass!"

"My sorry ass?" He was disconcerted by your comment. You had stopped the car once you arrived at his shitty apartment on the outer brim of Chicago. "Had you kept the little bastard under control I wouldn't have needed any fuckin' saving."

"How the fuck was I supposed to keep him under control from the fucking back?" You followed him after he stepped out and slammed the passenger side door. "You ungrateful asshole!"

"I knew I shouldn't have taken you with," He bypassed the front door with you still in toe, closing it with an indignant blow behind you.

"If you want something done," He muttered while he promptly started to throw his shit into an empty bag. "Gotta do it your fuckin' self."

You were there watching him. You were utterly dumbfounded by your anger. You had just saved him. For a moment you even supposed that for once in his godforsaken life that he might have been thankful, but that went out the fucking window faster than it had come.

"Why the fuck are you just standin' there like a moron?" He turned to eye you. "Pack your shit!"

"To go where?"

"The fuck do you mean 'where'?!" He stood to his full height to face you, an eyebrow cocked in inflammation. "We're getting the hell out of dodge!"

"Go fuck yourself," You crossed your arms over your chest. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

With force like that of a speeding bullet, you were shoved against the wall. Charles had one hand furiously clutched around your throat. You were barely even able to straighten your thoughts when you felt the cool point of a blade pressed into the fragile skin of your cheek. The fear had you vibrating from the moment he set foot toward you as a single tear fell to your cheek.

"What have we discussed about talkin' back, doll?" His impassioned words slithered around your subconscious and seeped right into your brain. A small pulse was still beating with the rhythm of your heart where your head made contact with the wall. When you refused to respond, his grip hardened.

"Answer me or shit's gonna get a whole hell of a lot worse for you."

"Fuck you," You strangled out. "You won't kill me, you need me..."

"Need you?" His head fell back in a bitter fit of cackling at your words as if they had some sort of influence on him. "I don't fuckin' need you, you're nothin' more than a sight for sore eyes after a long night, sweet thing."

You smothered a sob that crawled up your throat, not wanting to let your emotions get the better of you, but boy, oh boy, did Charles know how to pull on your heartstrings. Pulling on them was actually the softest way you could put it. In fact, some nights he'd yank the fuckers right out of your chest with little to no remorse. You had been a hostage of your love for him and he took full advantage of that.

"What's the matter, doll face?" The tip of the blade dragged over your sensitive flesh to lure back a piece of hair that fell between your petrified eyes. You recoiled at his touch. "Cat got your tongue?"

This is how things always went. You never said he was the perfect lover, but you did admit to being a prisoner to your love for him regardless of how awful he was. The long nights full of tears and the short nights full of love and adoration. Neither exceeded the other because with every great day always came a shitty day. And with every shitty day came an even shittier day. It would take ages of combat and depletion to return to your usual flow with him. Every relationship had its ups and downs, but the toxicity of yours was bittersweet. He was relentless, but he was intoxicating. If anything, you needed him.

He was, has, and always will be your Charles.


End file.
